<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>past the last exit by saturatedsinset</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015718">past the last exit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturatedsinset/pseuds/saturatedsinset'>saturatedsinset</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tolerate it [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All Elite Wrestling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Set vaguely in the aftermath of Dynamite 1/6-1/21?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:13:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturatedsinset/pseuds/saturatedsinset</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenny’s staring at him, but not the way Matt wants. It’s nostalgic, almost, this heartache. Kenny’s eyes are wild, manic, and he’s shaking a little from the adrenaline, and his chest heaves with every breath he takes, and Matt can’t stand how familiar it is. And Kenny’s not staring at him the way Matt wants him to but he’s still staring, he’s still pleading, and it’s not enough but Matt can’t turn away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Jackson/Kenny Omega</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tolerate it [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>past the last exit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CONTENT WARNING: there is a sex scene that is consensual but one party is not happy about the fact that he consented. he doesn't withdraw consent but the content may put some readers off. if you wish to skip that part, skip from the beginning of the third paragraph to the end of the fourth.</p>
<p>anyway, i guess my full-time job is mattkenny now. talk to me on tumblr @<a href="https://saturatedsinset.tumblr.com/">saturatedsinset</a></p>
<p>title from the song "No Children" by the Mountain Goats</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kenny’s staring at him, but not the way Matt wants. It’s nostalgic, almost, this heartache. Kenny’s eyes are wild, manic, and he’s shaking a little from the adrenaline, and his chest heaves with every breath he takes, and Matt can’t stand how familiar it is. And Kenny’s not staring at him the way Matt wants him to but he’s still staring, he’s still pleading, and it’s not enough but Matt can’t turn away. So of course he can’t say no. He’s never been able to say no to Kenny. </p>
<p>The look on Nick’s face says he knows, but he doesn’t say anything. And Matt can’t acknowledge that without breaking, and Kenny’s hand is on his arm, too-hot and sweat-slick, and Kenny’s dragging him away and Matt casts a last look at Nick, unsure if he wants to say <em> I know </em> or <em> I’m sorry </em> or <em> what was I meant to do? </em> Nick doesn’t even raise a hand to stop him, because they both know Matt’s a lost cause. </p>
<p>Kenny pulls Matt into the dressing room, shoves Matt against the door and only now lets go of his arm, and when Matt looks down he’s almost surprised that he doesn’t find burn marks there. And then Kenny sinks to his knees, and. Matt remembers this, from years ago, knows it’s how Kenny gets after a match, and without even meaning to he’s tangling a hand in Kenny’s hair, guiding him. It’s like coming home, this weird little routine, Kenny’s shaky hands and his eyes too bright and- and his fucking <em> tongue, </em> his <em> mouth, </em> and the ache in Matt’s chest even as it feels so fucking good. He has his hand tight in Kenny’s hair, remembers just how he likes it (hard and rough, just on the edge of too much) and Matt knows he shouldn’t be doing this but how can he walk away?</p>
<p>And Kenny’s <em> good </em> at this, of course he is, and he’s swallowing around Matt and it isn’t enough but Matt will take it and even though his heart isn’t in it his dick definitely is, because Kenny knows exactly how Matt likes it too and he’s doing so good. Matt’s close already, his own adrenaline high soured by the heartache but still enough to carry him, and he barely manages to mumble a warning before he’s coming in Kenny’s mouth. Kenny barely reacts, swallows it down like it’s nothing, but when he sits back on his heels his chest is heaving. There’s still that wildness about him, but he looks more settled now, and Matt would be surprised if he didn’t know exactly how this goes, every time. </p>
<p>“Thanks,” Kenny mumbles, his voice gravelly, and Matt just nods and pulls his pants back up, lets his head hit the door. And Kenny doesn’t seem confused, or surprised, and Matt hates that maybe more than he hates himself for letting Kenny drag him here, and even with red-hot embers in the pit of his stomach he can’t help himself.</p>
<p>“You good?” Matt asks, quiet, like it matters. Like speaking louder will break whatever spell they’re under. He offers Kenny a hand, helps him up, and Kenny’s still too warm but he leans into Matt and that’s. It’s something.</p>
<p>“Fine,” Kenny shrugs. Matt can feel his breath against his collarbone, wraps an arm around him to keep him steady because even now he’s trembling like he’s about to fall over. This part is familiar too, holding Kenny here until he’s come down enough to go home, and Matt’s done it enough that it almost doesn’t hurt. It’s too quiet in the dressing room, the low hum of the air conditioner too soft to drown out the sound of Kenny’s breath against Matt’s skin. The dampened sounds of the crew breaking equipment down, usually deafening, don’t do anything to break the silence, and even though Kenny’s weight is solid against him Matt is alone, with his thoughts.</p>
<p>And he’s thinking, maybe this time it’ll be different. Maybe this time Kenny will look at him the way he wants, and maybe this time Nick will stop catching Matt’s eye with the worst kind of pointed pity, and maybe this time they can just <em> be,</em> just <em> them. </em> Maybe tomorrow the quiet will be peaceful instead of suffocating.</p>
<p>Kenny pulls back, and Matt thinks for a brief, terrifying second that he’s just going to walk out before he realises that he’s just standing up straight, that it’s just time to get him home. While Kenny’s pulling his hair back and shrugging a hoodie on, Matt grabs his bag, doesn’t even spare a glance for his own gear, just hands Kenny’s things over to him, a hand gentle on his back. Kenny’s still leaning into him, like he knows he can depend on Matt, and. That’s something. It’s maybe everything. </p>
<p>The quiet is so thick in the room, a blanket they’re caught in, that the sharp knock at the door actually makes Matt jump. Kenny’s hands are off him instantly as the door opens, and Matt’s trying to tell himself it’s just because he’s startled, but he’s not blind. He sees Kenny’s bravado click back into place as Nick walks in, all sharp edges again, and the only person that even spares a glance at Matt is his brother. Kenny doesn’t say anything, just shoulders past them both, jaw set and back straight, and Matt doesn’t think he can feel any more discarded.</p>
<p>“You good?” Nick asks, an unintentionally cruel echo of Matt’s one-sided care. He looks so worried, it’s infuriating. Matt can’t tell whether he wants to punch that fucking concern off his face or just start crying, so he does neither, just shakes his head. Nick doesn’t ever fucking get it. As if to prove his point, or take Matt’s silence as wanting him to voice what they’re both thinking, Nick keeps talking. “Are we just going with it?”</p>
<p>“No,” Matt grits out, can’t tell if he’s angrier at the white-hot pinprick tears behind his eyes, or Callis, or Nick, and even now he knows he’s not mad at Kenny. “No. Don's nothing. We’re gonna fucking get Kenny back.” <em> He’s </em> going to get him back. He can make Kenny come back to him, again, like always.</p>
<p>The concern is back on Nick’s face, but Matt pretends he doesn’t see it. It doesn’t matter. Kenny always comes back to <em> them, </em> to <em> him, </em> always needs them even when he’s pretending that he doesn’t, and it’s not what Matt wants but it’s enough. He can make it be enough.</p>
<p>And Matt thinks, <em> what comes next? </em> And the answer, easy as breathing, harsh as ash caught in his throat is, <em> what always comes next</em>. And the answer, caught like the breath in his lungs, blunt like a gut punch, is <em> you take care of him until he leaves you again. </em></p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>